The Forgotten Prince
by Ecclesiarch
Summary: Eridan thought that it'd be a good idea to spend time on his planet, only to be proven terribly, terribly wrong. His consorts are the least of his worries, as he battles with his own identity, as well as his need to feel accepted and adored. Will he take drastic measures to get what he wants, even from the most unexpected of people? Series of unrelated drabbles, sadstuck.
1. Resignation

**A/N:** TW: Major character death, Abandonment, Violence. This will most likely be a series of drabbles, depicting Eridan's suffering in a doomed timeline where everyone forgot about him- consequentially leaving him on LOWAA for the rest of his days.

_He didn't need friends…_

The screech of another angel, another extinguished life, pierced his ears- the resulting cry of outrage from the others a near constant melody. As long as he had power... he didn't have a need for any sort of companionship, not in any shape or form. He didn't need anyone or anything, he just needed to be strong. Maybe _then_ people would give him the respect that he deserved, the respect that was his _birthright_. A loud screech- one that he hadn't caused- caught his attention. He could only pale in disgust and revulsion as one angel ripped off the wings of another. It smirked at him, it smirked- and the last thing that Eridan knew was the pain of having his back raked open by claws.

When he regained cognizance, he realized that he was alive, much to his confusion. Why hasn't he died? Why hadn't they killed him? It wasn't as if anybody would miss him, after all. That thought surprised him. What did he _mean_ no one would care? Of course they would. His friends would miss him. Ah, but were those traitors really his friends, a snide voice whispered to him disdainfully. They had abandoned him, they had left him here to die. Were they _really_ his friends...? Hadn't he left of his own accord, though? Surely it was not their fault... But would real friends even _let _him leave? They didn't even care enough to make him stay- how pathetic! The voice inside his head recorded with that last, scathing remark- leaving him alone with his thoughts.

He hated to admit it, but the voice had brought up a good point. Did his friends really care about him, since they let him go back to his planet (which was teeming with violent consorts)? He gave a pained yelp, and the sound of ripping cloth filled the deathly silent chapel. He was horrified to find two wings sprouting out of his back when he glanced behind him, both white in coloring and no longer than his forearm. He watched on in morbid fascination as the pure white color darkened slightly, only to lift again once his negative thoughts left him.

He had lost track of the time that he spent in LOWAA. It could have been minutes, hours, days, sweeps... but he wouldn't have noticed. His wings had grown larger, indicating that a significant amount of time had passed. A time spent with no contact. With no help. With no friends. An angel swept into the chapel that was his residence, and he could only reach out jerkily, as if he was a marionette being puppeteered. "Please, stay wwith me, I don't want to be alone anymore! I can't stand this silence, it's deafenin, it's stiflin an constrictin an everythin in betwween... Please, don't leavve me like evveryone else did!" He begged, his pride washed down the drain as he pleaded for it to stay with him.

* * *

He had been attention-starved when the other angels came for him; he had become borderline insane due to the suffocating silence of the planet. The chapels were large and desolate, though no sound could be heard. No whistle of the wind. Only the faint murmuring of voices, ones that made him think he was going even crazier. The sound of his own breathing was loud in his ears, heavy, overpowering. He would swear that he could hear the sound of his own bloodpusher sometimes, the unsettlingly loud beating echoing in his ears. It didn't help that he didn't walk, either. He glided an inch or two above the ground when he felt the need to move. It had come to him naturally, and he found that it was easier than walking. So when the angels came for him, their wings beating a loud, imposing rhythm, he could only cover his ears, wincing at the influx of noise that he had grown unaccustomed to.

His consorts swarmed him, caressing, petting, soothing him. The angels told him that they loved him, the angels had told him that he was beautiful, that he was wanted and needed by them. He had never been told something like that before, but he liked the way that the compliments made him feel. He felt content, appreciated...

* * *

The angels liked to hunt. It was part of the reason why it was so silent in LOWAA, since they snuffed out any and all life besides their kin. He was a part of them now, so they wouldn't hurt him. His wings that they had given him earlier were a testament to the fact. Whenever the screech of an imp sliced through the silence of the planet, it would almost be immediately followed by another shriek, accompanied by the telltale clinks of grist hitting marble floors. There was white noise on the planet, which was the murmuring of the angels. They spoke in odd accents, hissing and hoarse. They spoke to him and he listened placidly, responding listlessly in return. "You're ssso beautiful, my pretty..." One whispered to him, running a hand down his tattered gray wings- which almost resembled cracked stone.

He could do little more than nod in agreement, tears cascading down his face as he sobbed audibly, his weeping echoing around the planet eerily. "I knoww." He didn't want this. The angel pressed its mangled mouth to his, and he could only cry harder- because he needed this, though he hated having to. He didn't want this. "I knoww." He choked out. _He didn't want…_

A few days later, the boy looked almost haunted as he sat inside his church, huddled up in a corner with his dull gray wings obscuring him from view partially. He was hiding from the angels, since he didn't want to see them at the moment. They had a falling out of sorts, since a little bit of his original _hatefuluglydetestable_ personality had shone through when he hissed at a few of them for trying to touch him, and a clawed hand to the face had been what he got in retribution.

_He silently thanked the deities for silent tears, for inaudible sobs…_

They said that they had loved him. They said that they had _loved_ him. So why was he hurting? Why didn't it seem like they did any more? Why didn't they _act_ like how they _claimed_ they _felt_? He didn't know anymore. He knew nothing but the bitter betrayal, and the painful isolation.

When the chapel doors swung open again, and an angel swept in, the boy hissed and snarled as he shrunk further into the corner with a desperate, feral growl. "Pretty…" He tensed at the sound of the angels' "affectionate" nickname for him. He backed away and growled once more, clawing at the arms that forcefully pried his wings open, fear clearly visible in his violet eyes. _No… no no no no nononononononono-_

The angel papped him on the cheek, a soothing yet rattling "ssshoosh" coming from its mouth. "Pretty…" He relaxed instantly, so starved for affection and acceptance at that point that he'd take it from just about anyone, any_thing_. "You're sssafe with me…" A tired sigh came from bruised lips, tired wings relaxing, and a choked sound as sharp claws wrapped around a gilled neck. Eyes closed in solemn defeat, and weary arms dropped to his side limply. A final rattling breath escaped his lips, and he could but utter the one word that he had denied the exit of for all this time- his stubborn, stubborn pride keeping it locking within him. "Help..." Silence...  
And thus, Eridan Ampora was no more. Loved by none, forgotten by all.

* * *

_No one came for you in the end, young prince…._  
_So tell me…_

_**Where is your knight now?**_


	2. Making Believe

**A/N:** I've been on a really long hiatus lately, and I'm sorry to say that I'm pretty sure I've given up on all of my other stories. I'm simply appalled at the fact that "holy shit I thought this was actually good." But yeah, that's kind of it for this meaningless author's note.

**TW: Hallucination**

_It was so quiet… so, so quiet._

The silence was stifling, pushing against him at all sides, drowning him though he had gills. A shuddering breath, a shaky sigh. Eridan eyed the area around him as he steepled his fingers, leaning forwards as he stared at the empty seat in front of him. No- it… it wasn't empty. Someone was there. Sollux peered back at him listlessly, and Eridan could do little more than scowl. "Wwhy did it havve to be you, of all people? Wwhy is it YOU that came for me?" He didn't say anything in return. "Wwhere is evveryone? Wwhy are you here?" The lowblood remained silent, much to Eridan's displeasure. Why wasn't he talking?

Why wasn't he responding to him? Why wasn't Sollux speaking? Usually, he'd rear up in indignant fury, and they'd fight. Why was this time any different? "Sollux, speak to me…" His voice cracked, and he reached over to the psionic. "Please, just… talk to me, please!" Eridan had resorted to begging, pleading. He was desperate for contact at this point, even if it was from a lowblooded landweller. His hand phased through the other troll, and suddenly- his eyes were empty, becoming sockets. The glasses were gone, replaced by a headpiece. Mustard colored blood leaked out of the corner of Sollux's mouth, and Eridan recoiled.

"_Y0u did this tw0 me…_" Eridan's eyes widened, and he shook his head frantically trying to deny something that he already knew. He opened his mouth to say something, only to close it with a resounding _click_, which echoed about the room eerily. _"N0b0dy will c0me f0r y0u, y0u kn0w that, right? Y0u're t00 hateful... N0 0ne even remembers y0u."_ No, Sollux was here for him. Sollux was here. He didn't care if it was him, he didn't care who it was at this point.

"But… you came for me, you came to take me back, right? You came here lookin for me, so you remembered me, right? Right?" Eridan could feel his sanity slipping. The goldblood didn't say anything, he didn't so much as speak to Eridan. His form flickered, and the violetblood could do little more than grasp at empty air. "No, you havve to stay! Don't leavve, don't leavve me alone again!" He cried out, clawing at the spot on the chair that Sollux used to be on. He was gone. Everyone was gone. Eridan sobbed, his face contorting into a melancholy, tortured expression. "No- please…" He slumped downwards, the wings on his back suddenly unbearably heavy. Eridan let out a choked sob, his forehead meeting the seat of the chair as he cried.

_"Someone… Anyone….?"_

* * *

A hand ran through his hair, one that had rings on it. No- no it… it didn't. It was not his hand it was _not_. He looked up, and Feferi flickered into his vision, running her hand through his hair comfortingly in the way that only moirails could.

"Feferi?"

_"What is it, -Eridan?"_

"Please don't leave me."

_"I won't ever leave you."_

"Thanks, Fef… I kneww I could count on you."

A lonely boy laughed, his own hand in his hair as he talked to someone that was not there. Tears cascaded down his face, though he sported a jovial smile.

_The laughter bounded off the walls eerily, echoing around the chapel as someone talked to himself._

"Sol said that no one wwould come for me, can you believve that?"

"I knoww, I knoww. He's pretty stupid, isn't he?"

"Wwhy are you defendin him?"

"Besides the obvvious, Fef."

"...Wwhy do you evven like him, though?"

"Oh."

"No, it's alright. I'm alright."

_"I'm jus happy that you're here f' me."_


	3. The Penitence of a Sin

**A/N:** AKA: In which Eridan takes turns playing priest with his imaginary boyfriend. It's kind of sad, really, how Eridan thinks that Sollux is actually there. Also, have some implied-but-not-clearly-stated Erisol blackrom. Because I'm ERISOL TRASH I ADMIT TO IT ALL

* * *

There were times when he would doubt his own sanity.

Eridan giggled as he counted the amount of grist he had gotten from his last kill, _the blood_ an odd, warm and sticky liquid painting his lips- making him snicker as he drew a thumb across his mouth. He often found himself doing this as an odd getaway, a coping method of sorts. He remembered that before the angels _took_ rescued him, he would try to talk to the imps. They never talked back to him, though. They always hissed, tried to attack him- and oh _no, Eridan couldn't be having __that_. He had been oh so _very_ cold back those days, so cold…. it had felt as if he had ice circulating in his veins instead of blood. So at least the imps were good for something- at least _blood_ stayed warm for a little while.

But he was sane. Insane people didn't think about their own insanity, after all. But then again… sane people didn't talk to people that weren't really there _FeferiKarkatKanayaSollux_. They _were_ there, though, weren't they? Yes… Yes, they were. He wasn't crazy. He was _not_ crazy. So maybe he talked and argued with himself from time to time (both inside his head and out), but that didn't make him insane. It didn't exactly make him sane, either, but he would happily gloss over that fact with a grain of salt.

He shifted his gaze as the grist flickered, disappearing automatically. He stared intently at the chair of the confession box before Sollux flickered into existence. The captor was a frequent visitor of the church, since he had so many things to repent for. "Confe22 me," he said sullenly, the door shutting as he sat down. See? He wasn't crazy- Sollux had to be there for the door to shut (it wasn't the breeze caused by his wings, it _wasn't_). Eridan switched into a different set of clothes, donning a pair of pitch black pants, a violet button up shirt (the thought that it was the exact shade of his blood made him laugh), and a white cape embroidered with gold that barely covered his wings. The angels had helped him alchemize all of it- they had said that it made him look rather becoming (who was he to question the angels? They were never wrong, never never _never_). They told him that it looked regal, almost holy (at that, they snickered due to the irony).

"Confe22 me." The voice repeated, sounding equally as dull as the first time he had asked (_ordered_). Eridan rolled his eyes, walking over to the confession box as he slid open the small window. "Eriidan…" The voice rasped, almost surreal and ghost-like and barely corporeal in nature (but he was there, he was there and no one could tell him otherwise). "Forgiive me, for II have 2iinned." The Ampora agreed readily, a gleeful smirk on his face. He nodded as a sign to go on, though Sollux couldn't see him. The other troll continued, nonetheless. "II have enviied Zahhak. II had experienced lu2t for AA, though my 2oul wa2 chaiined two FF at the tiime." Eridan scowled, though he had already expected as much. Cheating bastard. Feferi deserved better than _trash_ like him. "II…" Oh, was he still going? Eridan stilled, remaining silent as he waited for the next confession. "II felt wrath when KK made you bled and cry. Only II can do that two you, _no one el2e_." He hissed irritably.

Eridan blinked curiously, wondering if Sollux was serious about what he was saying. "You're pathetic…" He muttered scathingly, noting the way that Sollux stilled in the confession cell. "Confess me." Eridan commanded, opening the door to the box. Sollux was already gone, sitting in the chair that Eridan had previously occupied. The Ampora sat in the chair, closing the door and drawing in a shuddering breath. His shoulders sagged as he began to speak. "Forgivve me, for I have sinned." How many times had he done this with Sollux already? He remembered seeing and hearing the other troll countless times in the chapel, trading secrets like fiduspawn cards. It was always with a placid resignation that they spoke, jeering each other only once or twice in their grim exchanges. "I knew wwrath…" Blood dripped from his lips as he spoke. "Wwhen I killed the imps." Sollux frowned, as if Eridan had said something wrong. (But how could he still see Sollux? Wasn't he out of the box? Why whywhywhy_why_-). The seatroll could only roll his eyes. "Okay, fine. Havve it your wway, you little bitch." He sighed, speaking in a mocking tone as he opened his mouth again. "I knew wwrath wwhen I _mutilated_ those imps." He said. The Captor snorted, muttering something under his breath. "I felt relief wwhen Sollux spoke and I couldn't hear the bullshit comin outta his mouth for once," he remarked sarcastically. There was no response to his taunt. Eridan waited stubbornly, not about to take back what he had said because he upset the other troll. Really, it wasn't even all that offensive, was it? He bit his tongue stubbornly as he waited for a reply. "Sol?" He finally asked, wondering if he had _really_ offended the Captor. Eridan sighed, getting out of the confession box slowly. Sollux wasn't there. "You left me again," he stated, walking over to the chair. His footsteps echoed in the chapel, the _click clack_ of his shoes rebounding off the whitewashed walls. "You promised that you wwouldn't leavve again." He muttered bitterly.

A slight breeze blew through the desolate planet, a whispering, hollow sound floating on the wind. Eridan trailed his fingers over the chair, feeling the cold wood against his fingers. He tapped a claw against the backrest of the chair, a sneer curling on his lips. "You _ran_ from me." He hissed, narrowing his eyes at the empty chair. It made him angry, so irrationally _angry_ at the fact that _Sollux_ of all trolls had left him. "Wwhy did you leavve?" He asked angrily, his claws digging into the wood of the chair in his fury. "Wwhy did you _leavve_?!" He demanded from the chair, digging his nails into the wood and pulling downwards- leaving dark, angry scratches on the furniture. "Wwhy? Wwhy wwhy wwhy wwhywwhy_wwhywwhy_?!" The violetblood's voice nearly rose an entire octave, translucent tears of frustration beading in his eyes. "WWHY?!" He shrieked, nearly falling to his knees as he broke the chair into splinters by pressing down too hard with his hand. "I…" he whimpered, his anger seemingly dissipating as he sat in front of the rubble. "Wwhy did you go?" He asked slowly, hopelessly.

The wind blew again, and Eridan could have sworn that he heard a voice riding on it. "2orry…" He looked down at the splintered mess that was the remnants of the mahogany chair, which Sollux had been sitting on earlier. Eridan stood, sweeping into the confession box quickly. He sat down on the chair, and he suddenly felt very sick. It was cold and crowded in small space, and his wings suddenly seemed to feel too large.

"_Confess me."_

"_I experienced wwrath wwhen my bastard of a friend left me to rot in this hell hole."_

"…_Sorry for my foul language, father."_

"_I felt envy when Sollux was allowed to leavve this treacherous place, yet he didn't bother to take me wwith him."_

"_I experienced regret wwhen I made him leave."_

"…_That isn't a sin?"_

"_Then…"_

"_**Wwhy does it hurt me so **__**much**__**?**__"_


End file.
